


spend your time on me

by taonsils (mirokkuma)



Series: card fills [6]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Bad handjobs, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Mental Health Issues, gross husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokkuma/pseuds/taonsils
Summary: “Married, moving into our first home,” Chanyeol dusts his palms off on his jeans. “You know.”Junmyeon really doesn’t.(5 times the newlyweds didn’t christen their apartment and 1 time they..kind of did)





	spend your time on me

**Author's Note:**

> [gen bingo card fill ▲ prompt: househusband]
> 
> let me tell you the table thing is what started this MONTHS AGO because of [this right here](https://78.media.tumblr.com/989ce6bf57f7f202b80a0eb1691d639e/tumblr_p2lyi9QAKa1tm46dko1_540.jpg)  
> I don’t know how this got so long but I love useless husbands and here it is,, e enjoy.  
> (I was gonna say it’d be great if I could just write some silly fluff without some mellow subjects too, but, hey. you can have fun and be silly and have mh stuff too so here we are. that said, this possibly goes into enough detail of yeollie’s issues that it’s not a super light read. but ymmv, as a bag of nerves myself I found it pretty enjoyable to work on ٩( ᐛ )و )
> 
> (fndhf also I just. wanna say that it just worked out that it was mostly junmyeon initiating. cy cares. he’s tired.)

“Guess what,” Chanyeol calls over the top of the box he’s supporting against his chest. He can’t see Junmyeon past it, but there’s nowhere else he’d be other than down the hallway. “This is the last one. The _last_ one, Myeonnie.”   
  
“The last one?” Junmyeon echoes, disbelieving. It felt like it would never end. They may have had it easy moving in on the ground floor, but with the jet lag and sheer amount of junk the two of them decided to pack it’s been an exhausting few days.   
  
Chanyeol’s carrying _Stuff #3_ , (kitchen&bedroom drawers) in biro in his own handwriting under Junmyeon’s thick marker. He lowers the box to rest against his hip when he reaches their door, and there’s his husband. Tiny and tired and still glowing as he confirms, “So we’re all moved in.”   
  
They really, actually, _finally_ are. A celebratory nap feels in order.   
  
Junmyeon balances his own box (Stuff #5) between the wall and a raised knee so he can get the keys. Which are in Chanyeol’s back pocket. “Closer,” Junmyeon pouts, arm stretched as far as he can reach. They’ve done this so many times today. Leaving the door on the latch would have made this process infinitely less trying, but if there was one thing his parents had to say about the move it was that they were worried. It seems like a perfectly nice neighbourhood, clean and quiet, but Junmyeon isn’t taking any risks, and Chanyeol worried because someone else did, so he was ok with the additional work. Although admittedly all they have to steal right now are all these mystery boxes.   
  
“Right in front of the neighbours,” Chanyeol tuts as Junmyeon’s little hand rummages in his back pocket. There’s only five apartments to a floor - four if you’re on the 22nd, but even between them they couldn’t afford that - and it’s midday, so hopefully their constant bickering and back and forth with boxes hasn’t bothered anyone.   
  
It’s a practiced move, Junmyeon turning the key and Chanyeol weighing his back against the door to shuffle it open.    
  
“Ah, you wait there,” Chanyeol says, dumping his box in front of the door to prop it open. He takes Junmyeon’s from him and scoots off into the apartment to stack it along with the others, then scoots back. Junmyeon’s stayed put, leaning against the doorframe. Good. “We’re doing this properly.”   
  
“Doing what properly?” Junmyeon gives the hallway a longing look. He’s wanted to sit down for the last hour. But Chanyeol’s getting that sly little grin, and Junmyeon’s warily curious enough.   
  
“Married, moving into our first home,” Chanyeol dusts his palms off on his jeans. “You know.”   
  
Junmyeon really doesn’t. Then suddenly Chanyeol’s arm is around his shoulders, and Junmyeon barely steps away in time to avoid getting scooped by the backs of his legs. “Wait, wait,” Junmyeon holds Chanyeol’s forearm with both hands, “I don’t think-”   
  
“It’s what you do, _husband_ ,” Chanyeol says, nasal in annoyance. Other than the whole life together thing such an intimate form of insult was probably the best perk of getting married.   
  
“Mm.” Junmyeon thumbs at the ink on Chanyeol’s inner arm. “With your back, though?”   
  
“I am twenty seven years old.” Indignation doesn’t change that Chanyeol’s had a twinge in his lower spine since 2013. He’s been buying cushions for his back since he was 25 and had a special chair installed in his old office. Actually, that should be a priority before they get too carried away with furnishing the place. “If I could carry both our old apartments combined half way across the world I’m pretty sure I can manage all 5’6” of you down the hallway.”   
  
Hmm. Well, Junmyeon won’t agree that it’s a _good_ idea, but it is a nice one. Chanyeol’s parents instilled a different kind of romance in him than Junmyeon came to grow into, and he’s always secretly been soft for it. And Chanyeol’s prone to sulking when he doesn’t get his own way. They don’t have the wifi set up yet; it’d be a long, boring evening.   
  
“I’m 5’8”, or we’re getting a divorce.” Junmyeon steps back in close. Chanyeol has to stoop for Junmyeon to loop an arm around his shoulders. “Is this what really legitimises our marriage?” Junmyeon asks, and he’s got a stupid smile on his face even if he’s trying to play this off as an annoying Chanyeol thing he has to put up with.   
  
Chanyeol’s looking at his husband in much the same way he looked at the mattress when he insisted he could shift it from the delivery truck to their bedroom unassisted. “Sure is.”   
  
The mattress actually only made it as far as the corner of the living room nearest to the bedroom door. But Junmyeon’s more like several heavy boxes than one whole mattress, and Chanyeol’s done ok carrying those over the threshold.    
  
Junmyeon holds tight and wonders just how long Chanyeol’s been waiting to do this. Probably since they first made a pinboard of apartment ideas, knowing him.   
  
  
So far the apartment only has the furnishings it came with, their boxes, the mattress. Another night of dvds on Junmyeon’s laptop, no wifi, and sleeping on the floor. Chanyeol’s getting a head start - he’s been flat out for the past half hour. It helps his back. Carrying a grown man around, less so.   
  
“I thought we could do something tonight,” Junmyeon says, staring vacantly at the  two slice empty space in the takeaway box between them. He doesn’t normally like to eat heavy evening meals, but somehow jet lag seems to be giving his body a craving for grease. “Celebrate being all moved in.”   
  
“Uh, we totally are.” Chanyeol gestures around them and the luxury of two 14” pizzas in the makeshift bed between them. The little dent of a frown between Chanyeol’s brows gives away that he gets what Junmyeon is really saying. But, well. “What else is pizza in bed and chilling on the floor?”   
  
“Celebrating,” Junmyeon replies dubiously. Honestly he’s too exhausted to even be all that disappointed. There’s the mental fog of having to constantly think in a second language, and travel fatigue really slammed him once they actually stopped moving. Every part of him aches. Chanyeol looks hungover with tiredness and has tomato sauce at both corners of his mouth. Junmyeon chews slowly, considering that he’d still grind him into their mattress on the floor if he hadn’t gone and put his back out _again_.    
  
Even when Junmyeon is trying harder to mask his feelings Chanyeol usually has some idea of what the problem is. “Myeonnie, hey,” He reaches across and rubs Junmyeon’s knee with the heel of his palm, greasy fingers curled carefully out of the way. “Don’t look like that. I could still..” he part-offers, biting into his lower lip, and Junmyeon grimacing wasn’t really the reaction he’d hoped for.   
  
“No, you can’t,” Junmyeon sighs. He pats Chanyeol’s hand. “I need you for apartment things, the least damage you do to yourself the better.” They have an entire apartment to organise and start furnishing and only a week of free time to do it in before Chanyeol starts at his new office. Junmyeon’s work is how it’s always been - intensive but sporadic - and he’ll be working from home now. He can do a lot on his own. But they need to make decisions, and the extra height and hands will be useful for the initial stages.   
  
Apologising would mean agreeing that he did a stupid thing, and that Chanyeol’s long-lived romantic dreams were a bad idea. Which they entirely totally weren’t, so he just nods. “I’ll be fine by morning. All good for apartment things.” Maybe his yawn is a little staged, but the bone-deep tiredness is all too real. “We really need the sleep after the last few days.”   
  
“We do.” Junmyeon’s been thinking the pizza looks nice and pillowy, so Chanyeol’s right. “We can christen the place some other time,” Junmyeon shrugs. No big deal. He takes another slice out of the box. And then, without warning, the tension of the entire past few weeks snaps.   
  
“Oh-“ Chanyeol quickly grabs the paper napkins that came with their order and pushes them over to Junmyeon. “I’m really sor-“   
  
“I’m fine,” Junmyeon wipes his face with the whole ball of napkins, snatched up with one hand because putting the pizza down didn’t seem like an option. “I’m just tired. And we have so much to do, and this is such a big change, and-“ Junmyeon blows his nose noisily. And wait. Wait. “Chanyeol,” he wipes away the tear tracks on his cheeks with the back of his hand, “I’m not crying because you’re out of action for the night.”   
  
Chanyeol looks as relieved as he does offended, mouth hanging open. “I thought you were disappointed!”   
  
“Not _that_ disappointed,” Junmyeon laughs. His nose is stuffed up now, so this time he does put the slice of pizza back. No point if he can’t taste it. “Just felt overwhelmed for a moment. We’re here and ready to start our life together,” he wipes his fingers clean and pushes the boxes aside, “And we’ve had maybe three hours sleep in two days.”   
  
Chanyeol’s arms are longer, so he can reach to move the boxes onto the floor. Junmyeon takes the opportunity to wriggle in close to his chest while he’s stretching. “It has been kinda hectic,” Chanyeol agrees. He pouts, because he likes curling around Junmyeon or curling up so Junmyeon can wrap around him, but all he can comfortably do right now is lie out flat.   
  
“And it’s going to stay that way for a while. But at least we’re here, and it’ll be worth it.” Feeling warm and full and a lot better for the emotional release, Junmyeon squirms in as close as he can. The furniture they ordered in advance will start arriving any day, but for now their floor mattress is pretty comfortable when it comes with a Chanyeol to lie on. “And at least I get a nice pillow until we’ve bought some.”   
  
Chanyeol grumbles at that, but Junmyeon just sighs contentedly and closes his eyes.   
  
  
  
  
♡   
  
  
  
  
“Please-“   
  
The only thing better than waking up in their own home, in their own shared bed, in their own time, is waking up how Chanyeol did. Warm and bleary and smothered in kisses. As soon as he was awake enough to welcome the attention it turned biting, sucking, sharp and possessive. The ring on Junmyeon’s finger is skin-warm pressure, and- that’s vanilla as shit, but it’s still _so_ -   
  
“Please,” Chanyeol groans again, face and hands buried in his pillow. He wasn’t told he isn’t allowed to touch, but Junmyeon got him face down so fast he didn’t get the opportunity to try. He breathes into the fabric and it’s hot around his face. He tries to come up with more words, a specific request that he can try to earn, but when Junmyeon’s like this with him all of his focus narrows down to where he’s being touched.   
  
Another _please_ is the best Chanyeol can manage, and he’s not even sure it came out as more than a huff of breath. Fucked or fingered or- Junmyeon can tread on him for all he cares, so long as he gets _something_ -   
  
Junmyeon hums. “Now we live together I have all the time in the world to tease you.” He skims his nails down the back of Chanyeol’s thigh, and he loves how oversensitive this boy still is for him after all this time. It’s always so easy to make a mess of Chanyeol. Though to be fair he doesn’t want to wait a minute longer either, so maybe cooing over Chanyeol for his eagerness is enough play for now. “I’ve got you,“ Junmyeon shifts closer to the edge of the bed, leaves a hand at the base of Chanyeol’s spine. “Don’t move,” he orders softly when he has to let go.   
  
Chanyeol doesn’t. Junmyeon can hear how heavily his breath is coming, but then he has to rummage around in the nightstand drawer. Hmm. It isn’t a very deep drawer, and there isn’t very much in it.   
  
“Chanyeollie,” Junmyeon pouts, tone all sullen. It kinda breaks the mood. Not that they’d been playing for serious, exactly, but. “Did you unpack it yet?”   
  
It takes a long moment of groaning and wriggling for Chanyeol to uproot himself from the pillow he was face down in. “Me? I didn’t bring any.” Chanyeol frowns. He has fabric creases on one cheek and can’t blink away the haziness fast enough to be arguing about this right now. “Why would I have brought that half used one all the way over here. Use something else,” he huffs, bunching the pillow up in his arms and planting back into it.   
  
Junmyeon thinks. As much as he can think when he can see the pink trails of scratches on his husband’s back, and how he’s still soothing the sting out of them by moving his big body in jerky little ruts against the sheet. “Still packed,” he realises, “Or all the way in the bathroom. Or a potential health risk.”   
  
You take for granted having everything fully stocked in a lived in home. They’ve part furnished every room and even spent upward of two hours in the local store making sure they had all the household staples - kitchen and bathroom - but neither of them thought to stop off and get lube. Amazing.   
  
Sighing, Junmyeon crawls back in and settles over Chanyeol’s back. So close but so far. But, “I mean, there’s always one option.”   
  
Chanyeol’s shoulders jerk. “Not for-“   
  
“No,” Junmyeon quickly agrees. Saliva is ok in conjunction with other alternatives, or for a second round. Or just for fingers, which.. wasn’t the plan, but it’s not like watching Chanyeol squirm is a bad way to spend a Sunday morning. “Just so you can still have something.”   
  
Chanyeol peeks out from the pillow, like he wants to see Junmyeon to confirm they’re on the same page. The pink flush deep set across his cheekbones and the shells of his ears just makes Junmyeon want to tease him more. “Ok. That’s- ok.”   
  
Junmyeon smiles, briefly nuzzling into his good boy’s hair and against a hot ear. “You like it like that anyway,” Junmyeon murmurs as he pulls back, and Chanyeol’s shoulders immediately get all tight and solid. A little rough, on the edge of discomfort, Junmyeon means. That’s all he means.   
  
  
Chanyeol did mumble something as he wriggled away and out of bed, but Junmyeon didn’t catch it. Chanyeol didn’t shower - Junmyeon would have heard the pipes. Maybe just brushed his teeth and washed his hands. They’re a little pink, Junmyeon thinks, watching Chanyeol twist the ring around his finger.   
  
“Sorry,” Chanyeol pouts, “I wasn’t upset with you.”   
  
“I didn’t mean to imply it that way.” That it- that Chanyeol is dirty somehow.   
  
“I don’t think you did, I just..” Chanyeol scratches the back of his hair, like it helps with his itchy brain. “I just jumped there on my own. You know.” Junmyeon nods. He doesn’t first-hand, but he’s seen it enough times. “I haven’t been twenty for a long time, but, I guess it just..”   
  
They used to be as filthy as each other, in several senses, but once Chanyeol’s anxiety took hold he cleaned up a whole lot (in all senses).   
  
It’s inconsistent, and that’s something Junmyeon still struggles to navigate. Sometimes Chanyeol repeats his little rituals seven times a day, sometimes it’s hard to encourage him to do it even when it needs doing. Chanyeol doesn’t like talking about if it’s unusual to need a shower two hours after the previous one, or why he carries that little toothbrush case in his work bag and replaces it every month. Junmyeon would listen, but it’s an understandable hang up from Chanyeol opening up to his family. Once you let someone know it helps they try to take it away, and he isn’t ready to risk it again.   
  
Junmyeon reaches over, tangles his fingers with Chanyeol’s to stop him scratching so hard between his knuckles. He smiles, squeezes. It’s not some invisible secret, just..unaddressed, for now. “Well,” Junmyeon says, “I guess we’re up now.”   
  
“Yeah.” Chanyeol glances down, trying to see if there’s any marks on him that would be indecently above his neckline. His collarbones are clear. He can’t really remember if Junmyeon went any higher, but- ugh, why did his brain have to chose that exact moment to be a dick. “Seeing as we are, we have some stuff to buy, huh. But I like shopping with you, anyway, so.”   
  
Junmyeon grins. “You need me to come too?”   
  
“If only one of us chooses you know we’ll end up fighting about it later.” Chanyeol leans in, pauses. “I’ll- do you want coffee?”   
  
“I’m allowed coffee on a weekend?” Junmyeon’s the one that pulls away, so Chanyeol doesn’t have to. He’s used to it. Morning breath, clammy hands - Chanyeol’s the one that gets paranoid he’s repulsive, even if the trigger comes from someone else in the first place. It’s worse when he’s stressed and he just makes these involuntary leaps, latching on to whatever can plausibly be made an issue. Not even plausible at times, really. But isn’t moving house supposed to be one of the most stressful things you can do?   
  


  
As it turns out, just this once Junmyeon is allowed coffee on a weekend with no complaints. Half-pinned to the kitchen counter with Chanyeol babbling about when their future dog lives here isn’t exactly the best way to savour it, but Junmyeon wouldn’t have it any different.   
  
  
  
  
♡   
  
  
  
  
Junmyeon can take all of Chanyeol in his mouth, right to the base, without gagging. This is still something of a personal achievement. And this is definitely progress on their last two failed attempts.   
  
Junmyeon’s kind of obliged by marriage to tell Chanyeol how hot he looks in his new work suit, so he doesn’t feel so uncomfortable about wearing something that isn’t three sizes bigger than he takes. But also he really does, broad shoulders and all those sharp lines. (Even in tighter fitting clothing, Junmyeon promises him, his soft belly doesn’t show through his shirt at all).    
  
Chanyeol just associates the whole thing too much with work to appreciate it beyond how fast Junmyeon helped him out of it when he got home. Two hours late, after a commute on a still unfamiliar route.    
  
Junmyeon had wanted to do this after Chanyeol’s first day at work, and this is his third. So as congratulations/rewards/excuses to have your own damn husband to yourself go, it’s a little belated. And a lot enthusiastic. He even managed to catch Chanyeol before he had a chance to shower, and Chanyeol actually let him go ahead.   
  
Actually, Junmyeon’s enthusiasm to be giving head is kind of outweighing Chanyeol’s for being on the receiving end. Which isn’t super unusual - Junmyeon’s always keen, and Chanyeol’s still conscious of if he’s too big (nope) and the less than flattering sounds and expressions he comes out with. But even the gentle hold on the back of Junmyeon’s head is letting up, and- Junmyeon knows what Chanyeol likes. He knows how to make him squirm.   
  
There’s a slight ache in the hinge of Junmyeon’s jaw when he pulls off to raise his head. He likes it. The ache, that is, not the sight of his big lump of a husband seemingly dozing through two weeks worth of pent up blowjob frustration. “Chanyeol. Are you seriously falling asleep?”   
  
Chanyeol, who hasn’t been squirming in the least, inhales sharply through his nose. “No. Just- enjoying it.” He props up on an elbow to show he’s all for appreciating the view. And then a wave of dizziness knocks him back down. “Shit. I am.”   
  
“Like, really _really_ falling asleep?” Junmyeon strokes him lazily, waiting for a decision. He really _really_ doesn’t want to have to give this up. But it’s not looking promising; Chanyeol’s struggling to keep his eyes open just for this long. Maybe finding it more endearing than creepy that one always squinches more closed than the other, and neither close entirely when he’s asleep, is a married thing, too.   
  
“Add it to what I owe you, shit. I’m sorry.” Chanyeol scrubs a hand over his face. Hopefully not the sticky one from his brief participation when they started. “I honestly- you’re, you, you’re amazing. But I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”   
  
It’s not the most flattering of compliments, but it’ll do. Junmyeon lets up, Chanyeol’s cock curving back against his belly, pink and pretty and wet. He wipes his mouth off on his hand and his hand on the sheet, out of Chanyeol’s line of vision. “Good thing I’m so lenient with your repayments.”   
  
Tired as he is, Chanyeol snorts at that. If Junmyeon was a more forgiving person Chanyeol wouldn’t be paying ruined plans back in instalments. It’s not like Chanyeol’s any better. _I’ll make it up to you_ is an inanely fluffy way of wording it when they have orgasm debts that actually got kind of serious. Neither of them like to stand down first.   
  
  
“It was a nice way to fall asleep,” Chanyeol says sheepishly. They both have clean hands now, and Junmyeon’s brushed his teeth. He’s snuffling noisily under Chanyeol’s chin, trying to simultaneously get comfortable and sulk. “I’m. Relaxed, and stuff.”   
  
“Good for you,” Junmyeon huffs. He’s not _really_ mad - Chanyeol’s always worked way too hard, and often not by choice - but he is like, kind of mad. Or at least entitled to some pouting, at any rate. “You know it’s been four months since we last had sex. Of any kind.”   
  
Chanyeol’s chest hitches in an offended little gasp. “It’s been, like,” Chanyeol frowns. He can’t be too precise when he’s this tired, but it was September when they left Korea, and it’s still September now. “You’re so dramatic. It’s been like two and a half weeks. We’ve had a fuck-ton to do, it’s not surprising.”   
  
“It was high on the to-do list,” Junmyeon complains loud enough for Chanyeol to wince and wriggle deeper into the pillow under his head.    
  
“Junmyeon, my most favourite person in the world,” the attempt to comb fingers through Junmyeon’s hair mostly fails, turns more into a swat at his ear. “I love you but I’m actually going to die if I don’t sleep right now.”   
  
“ _I’m_ the dramatic one?” Junmyeon scowls, but Chanyeol’s practically out already. “Fine. I love you too,” he sighs, elbowing upright and collapsing onto his own side of the bed as dramatically as possible.   
  
  
  
  
♡   
  
  
  
  
“What exactly _is_ the christening a new place policy?” Junmyeon asks, swivelling in his desk chair. Because if it’s like, the whole big deal, the new schedule he’s just been sent could delay things even further.   
  
Chanyeol pauses his game just so he can roll his eyes in Junmyeon’s direction. “Dunno, babe. I haven’t had time to read the paperwork.” Only Junmyeon could make it sound like they’re contractually obliged to get it right. Junmyeon with the too-high desk chair, his toes pointed and barely reaching the legs so he can spin from side to side. “It’s been three weeks, I think it’s probably already used to us being here now.”   
  
Junmyeon turns back to his laptop to scan the calendar again. It’s really been three weeks already? Their schedules didn’t feel quite this pressing when they lived apart; they never actually had to experience each other’s absences. Rescheduling around a calendar was nice and organised and they could plan their own free time around it, and it had seemed like that could only be easier once they shared a space. They’d be able to fill all of their free time together.   
  
Quiet nights in are all they’ve really been doing so far. They’re exhausted, busy, furniture shopping, Chanyeol gets upset and has a crisis over their decision to move continents every time his mother emails. Junmyeon works his own hours, but they’re still hours that have to result in his deadlines being delivered KST. Even when Chanyeol is home on time Junmyeon’s often still typing. This is proper adult-ing, and it sucks.   
  
“We should have lived together before we did all of this.”   
  
“I know,” Chanyeol agrees easily. He hasn’t restarted his game and is just spinning his phone by the corner. “It’s a lot to adjust to, huh.”   
  
“When I had my own place I don’t think I even missed you,” Junmyeon says, closing his laptop to stop himself trying to mentally slot date nights into the schedule. “But now you’re just.. There’s a space where you should be. When you have to stay late I get _sad_.”   
  
“Wow.” Real flattering, your husband feeling, like, emotions. Chanyeol’s scowl is only for show - he still willingly shifts to accommodate Junmyeon moving from the desk chair to his lap. Two strong, skinny legs folding either side of his thighs.   
  
“I already have a moping blanket for the evenings,” Junmyeon sighs. Chanyeol’s big hands are warm and firm around his hips, holding him steady.   
  
Somehow the concept of marrying while living apart hadn’t actually felt all that stupid when they were doing it. It was a gesture more than anything official, and after five years dedication to the date-commute it wasn’t like either of them were planning on finding someone else. Chanyeol’s work asking him to move to the new overseas branch was basically a free ticket to somewhere they could make things legal, and an end to the argument of who should give up their place to relocate.   
  
“I know what you mean though. It’s not like I used to be in the office thinking about how I wanted to be with you, ‘cause we always had dates planned. But now you’re here in our home, so it’s just time I know I’m missing out on.”   
  
“Our home,” Junmyeon repeats with a smile. He’d never even thought he was the marrying type; he’s surprised himself how gooey he’s been about the entire thing. Wait, though. He frowns. “I’m a house husband. Aren’t I.”   
  
Chanyeol kind of chokes on a breath, and when he’s done coughing he looks at Junmyeon with wide eyes. “Junmyeon, seriously? When was the last time you cleared up a mess instead of making one?”   
  
Well..   
  
“Who makes the bed every day. And cleans the counters after we cook. Who makes all the shit you’ve left on the floor magically disappear.” Junmyeon doesn’t appreciate Chanyeol’s tone, but he’s counting off points by pressing his fingers into Junmyeon’s thigh, so, ok. “Who does the laundry.”   
  
Junmyeon pouts. “We both-“   
  
“ _I_ do it, you just come down to the laundry room so you don’t get lonely.” It’s not like Chanyeol’s even complaining - he kind of likes doing it himself, so he knows it’s done to his standards rather than Junmyeon’s. It’s just, “You’re not a house husband. You’re just..my husband, in a house.”   
  
“Our house.” Junmyeon dips in to peck Chanyeol’s lips, and he blinks back at Junmyeon. “Your husband.”   
  
“Yeah,” Chanyeol replies eloquently. It’s taken this long and Junmyeon’s hands wandering a little for Chanyeol to appreciate the position they’re in. “You really have a blanket replacement for me? It’s not that ugly orange one, right?” he asks, but Junmyeon’s already busy trailing slow, suckling kisses down his neck from his jaw. The first pinch of teeth and Chanyeol forgets that he was trying to tease Junmyeon about something or another.   
  
“No, it’s a nicer one. It’s not as soft as you.” Like, metaphorically. Junmyeon’s seated snugly in his lap; he isn’t soft right now.   
  
Somewhere behind them there’s a click, and an electronic sound, like a low buzz. Chanyeol turns when he hears it. Junmyeon catches him, draws him back. For a few seconds he’s got him, weighing his whole body into kissing Chanyeol, pressing into him wherever he can. Chanyeol’s between melting and on-edge, body relaxed and hands still gripping the way he does when he’s tense.   
  
“Wait-“ his lips are flooded red. Junmyeon almost whines when Chanyeol absently licks the wetness on them. “Can you hear that? I haven’t heard it before.”   
  
“I can hear it.”   
  
Chanyeol’s trying to turn his head again, like he doesn’t have more important things to focus on right now. “Where do you think it’s coming from?”   
  
“Don’t know. Leave it, Chanyeol.“ Junmyeon shifts his weight. Digging his knees down hard into the couch effectively pins Chanyeol in under him. It pushes their upper bodies closer, so Junmyeon drops his hold on Chanyeol’s chest and instead catches the nape of his neck. “Chanyeollie, it’s fine. Just a thing. We can find it later.”   
  
It’s maybe a little underhand to make sure Chanyeol’s attention stays facing forward by going for his ear, but it works. Junmyeon only pinches lightly, but that’s all it takes to get the last of the tension out of Chanyeol with a jolt that Junmyeon feels under him.   
  
“C’mon, pup, leave it. My puppy,” Junmyeon coos. It’s been months since they’ve had time for this, and he hadn’t purposely intended for now to be that time, but.. “You’re still my little one, right?”    
  
The softest little _oh_ and Chanyeol sinks down. There are advantages and disadvantages to Chanyeol’s height, but so much of him for someone so small to get a hold of can only be good. With weight on him in the right places he feels little, and Junmyeon’s practised at that.   
  
Chanyeol’s adorable when he’s like this, Junmyeon thinks, smiling down at him as they shift. Burning hot, and the pressure on his stomach has him pressing his hands to his face. His knuckles. Soft fists, makeshift paws.   
  
It’s only when Junmyeon leans in right over Chanyeol to kiss him that he stops panting. That buzzing sound is still there, low in the background. Junmyeon could not care less. “Are you going to be a good boy for me, Yeollie? Let me ride you.” Chanyeol whines, squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re always my good boy,” Junmyeon quickly adds with a soft kiss to Chanyeol’s forehead. If it’s a _no_ he isn’t by any means bad.   
  
Chanyeol looks like he desperately wants to agree. He doesn’t. Just looks up at Junmyeon, lip bitten hard. Once something is in his head it needs coaxing out, soothing, resolving. Not just putting aside for later. Turning Chanyeol on was the easiest thing in the world until his mental health started going to shit a few years ago. Junmyeon still knows what he’s doing, but whether Chanyeol has the energy and focus to respond is kinda hit and miss.   
  
“Pup?” Junmyeon cups his jaw, strokes hard and soothing with his thumb. He doesn’t like seeing him worried at the best of times, let alone when he’s in a more vulnerable place. “Yeollie, you can talk. Tell me.”   
  
“What if- that sound, what if it starts a fire or something. It sounds like something that isn’t connected right.”   
  
“Oh.. you think? Good point,” Junmyeon concedes. Not because he thinks it will, but because there’s no benefit in telling Chanyeol to focus elsewhere. It won’t, it’s just- Chanyeol’s not even home all that much. It’s just a noise he hasn’t heard before. Junmyeon spends hours sitting in here working and even he’s still getting used to all the odd sounds their new home makes or that filter through from their neighbours.    
  
Chanyeol paws gently at Junmyeon’s forearm. “Can I go and look?” his voice is small, like he really needs permission. He’s still a little in the headspace he was rapidly falling into. Not wanting to be even more discourteous than he already is, either, kicking Junmyeon out of his lap in the middle of something. Well. Not quite the middle. They only seem to manage getting a quarter of the way recently.   
  
Junmyeon’s pretty sure if they stop he might just, like, die, at this point. But it’s not like they’re going to have any fun with that on Chanyeol’s mind. Puppies are supposed to be content and spoiled. Chanyeol looks more like he’s been left outside a store and thinks Junmyeon’s not coming back. Ugh. Fine.   
  
“Go look. But it’s probably nothing,” Junmyeon chides softly. He leans down to muss Chanyeol’s hair and plant another kiss to his forehead before wriggling out of his lap. “Come back here as soon as you’ve found it, ok?”   
  
Chanyeol nods. Junmyeon curls into the warm spot he leaves, burying down against the cushions. Waiting is Junmyeon’s least favourite, but at least he has the amusement of how uncomfortable and uneven Chanyeol’s loud footsteps around the room are.    
  
It takes less than a minute to find out that it’s the tv, and while unexplained, the noise isn’t due to anything loose. It stops by the time Chanyeol’s shuffled back to the couch to report his findings. But by then Junmyeon’s checked his phone, and the good news is the schedule can be changed. The bad is that if he doesn’t reply immediately someone else who _definitely_ doesn’t need the free time as much as they do will claim it.    
  
They. Huh. Since when did Junmyeon make all of his plans _their_ plans? Gross.   
  
“Go ahead and reply.” Chanyeol draws his legs up and folds in as small as he can beside Junmyeon. He leans heavily against Junmyeon’s side and chins at his shoulder. “Better to lose a little time now and save a lot later?”   
  
Junmyeon’s thumbs hover over the keyboard. True, but try telling that to his dick. They were _so_ close this time. “There’s some strong force within this apartment that doesn’t want us to have sex in it.”   
  
Chanyeol laughs against Junmyeon’s shoulder. “Write your mail before someone else gets there.”   
  
“I am,” Junmyeon grumbles and starts prodding the words out. This is probably things working out for the best. No solid week of writing. No house fire. No nice thick cock for Junmyeon to sit on. Sigh. “Done,” he locks his phone and drops it on the arm of the couch. His big pup is still a little overheated; leaning back against him now is more warm and cosy than anything else. “And now I feel _tired_. I swear time passes faster here than it does back home.”   
  
Chanyeol hums in agreement, because honestly yeah, he’d been surprised to realise how many whole weeks they’ve been here already. “Hey,” he tilts his head so he can glance over at Junmyeon, “I love you.  And you’re like, the best husband ever. In the world.”   
  
It’s a somewhat guilty confession. An apologetic one, and a grateful one, because Chanyeol’s aware that Junmyeon’s tolerance level is constantly under pressure. He’s not a patient man by nature. It’s not nice, but Chanyeol gets it when Junmyeon is frustrated. Chanyeol can’t help the garbage in his brain - Junmyeon can’t help that it’s affecting his life too.    
  
“I am not,” Junmyeon replies, and Chanyeol droops a little. “You didn’t want us to die in a fire, that’s.. I mean, that’s understandable. Anyway, the timing worked out that I saw the mail, so.” Chanyeol’s right - what’s sacrificing one evening compared to the potential of them catching the same days off?   
  
Chanyeol snuffles in at Junmyeon’s neck, nosing just below his ear. “I liked where things were going before that happened.”   
  
Yeah. “Don’t remind me, Yeollie. I’m still bereft,” Junmyeon means to sound sarcastic. Chanyeol still whines softly in apology, and fair as Junmyeon’s trying to be about this, it’s appreciated. It’s not that Junmyeon just wanted a repayment off the orgasm debt this time. He misses it. Feeling stretched and so full and- they don’t really match up in their love languages, to be honest, and sometimes it’s easier to feel it than say it. Because whether he’s bad with words or not Junmyeon does love his big puppy of a husband. Adores him, honestly, and it’s just a bonus how helplessly he whimpers and pulses when Junmyeon rides him. Ugh. No point getting worked up about it again.   
  
“Puppy dog,” Junmyeon smiles fondly when Chanyeol’s forehead butts against his jaw, “I miss your fluffy ears.” Chanyeol’s hair, he means - it’s black and trimmed neat and silky smooth now. His old office didn’t mind the soft brown perm, and it was far more satisfying to pet.   
  
The apartment almost seems too quiet now without the mysterious buzzing. Their neighbours on all sides must be out. It’s a Friday night, after all. “Myeonnie, how did we actually used to find time for things?”   
  
“Determination,” Junmyeon deadpans, and Chanyeol splutters.   
  
“So,” he wriggles, snaking an arm around Junmyeon’s waist to draw him closer. It’s an uncomfortable position to twist into, but Chanyeol still feels a little too flushed and drifty to care so long as he’s pressing into Junmyeon somehow. “You’re gonna move out so we go back to sex on a rota?”   
  
“Yes.” Junmyeon tilts his head so Chanyeol can nuzzle in against his neck. It’s not the easiest angle to pet him at, but Junmyeon manages to reach up and give him a scritch. “No, it’s always been hard. My poor puppy hasn’t been played with for a long time, have you?”   
  
It wasn’t teasing, but Chanyeol still groans. “So long I somehow forgot how bad I have it for that,” he sighs, “Think we packed the collar? I haven’t seen it in months.”   
  
“Uh..” The idea of new tenants possibly finding and forwarding it on to either of their parents, and their parents wanting to know who Loey is and how on earth they kept a dog that size a secret is going to haunt Junmyeon. He just shrugs and twists to press a kiss to Chanyeol’s forehead instead of sharing. If Chanyeol got _that_ thought planted in his head..   
  
  
  
  
♡   
  
  
  
  
The door slams open. Junmyeon thankfully doesn’t drop his mug of coffee, but he does startle so hard it sloshes over the rim.   
  
“Oh my- Chanyeol,” he gasps, setting the mug down on the counter. Junmyeon’s only been out of bed for like, three minutes, and he’s hazy on exactly what time it was when Chanyeol kissed him goodbye. But it’s definitely morning, so, yeah. What the hell.   
  
Chanyeol’s paused in the doorway, looking almost as startled to see Junmyeon as Junmyeon is thinking someone had just broken in. He’s not panting like he ran or anything, but he does look a little flushed. A little damp under his hair and collar. It’s the suit - Junmyeon stares too much.   
  
“Chanyeollie?” Junmyeon pushes his sleep-mussed hair away from his face. “What are you doing back at this time?” Getting to see him in his work clothes before an entire day of fidgeting and two commutes is a treat. Junmyeon’s just wearing the first things he found on the floor this morning - tracksuit pants and a thick cotton shirt of Chanyeol’s that’s warm and baggy. It’s not that Junmyeon’s using working from home as an excuse to be lazy and wear comfy clothing and not bother styling his hair. Apart from on the days he definitely has no need to go out. So, uh, most days.   
  
“I have, like, fifteen minutes. Definitely no more than fifteen,” Chanyeol pulls the door shut and rattles it twice to make sure, and Junmyeon’s intrigued, “I have _no_ idea how I made it back here with that much time to spare, but..“   
  
In a few long strides Chanyeol’s crossed the room and is kissing Junmyeon before he can even joke that it would be the preferable way to spend whatever that time is actually for. Junmyeon should probably be at his desk halfway through his emails right now, but Chanyeol’s urgency to get his tongue in Junmyeon’s mouth knocks out any coherent thoughts pretty fast.    
  
These days Chanyeol’s softer and slower anyway, even more so when he’s carrying more weight. It’s not like him to be so feverish kissing and touching and Junmyeon’s probably making enough noise about it for the neighbours to hear. God, fuck, it’s been so long since they’ve synced up like this, and they don’t have any time to spare.   
  
Their heights make friction a kind of complicated logistic with them both standing, unless Chanyeol’s backed against something. Which he’s pretty enthusiastic about right now. He pulls and Junmyeon pushes, and it’s an easy, slightly stumbling move to get him against the nearest wall. And now Junmyeon’s got him there- fifteen minutes is nowhere near enough for the amount of things Junmyeon wants to do to him.   
  
“What do you want,” Junmyeon pulls Chanyeol down to lick back into his mouth and keeps him down, a hand fisted tight in his soft hair. It’s unintentional that he digs his nails into Chanyeol’s neck, but Chanyeol shudders and whines the way he always does and it goes straight to Junmyeon’s dick. “Fuck- What do you want. Tell me.”   
  
Junmyeon knows he can’t send Chanyeol back to work marked up at the least, and anyway, Chanyeol knots his tie tight and neatly buttons his collar right to the top (because he’s a good boy- it’s probably Junmyeon’s fault he’s always _so_ good), it’s too much work. But Chanyeol shifts just right for Junmyeon to get the perfect angle to drive hot and hard against his thigh, and it’s taking so much willpower not to bite into him.   
  
“Chanyeollie, tell me what I can do to you.”   
  
“Anything,” Chanyeol pants, and Junmyeon just nips sharply at his lower lip. Words. Use words. He’s so pretty when he’s overwhelmed. “Want you-” he flicks his tongue over his lip, winces at the sting, “-in me. Fuck me- ok? Please. Please-“   
  
Junmyeon really doesn’t need begging to do that right now, but there are some obvious obstacles even with only maybe two braincells focused anywhere but on that sweet point of friction between them. They haven’t fucked in weeks - months, maybe, since they did it this way around - and it’s not like doing this with a time limit is _easy_. It’s not like there’s lube right here or Chanyeol’s anywhere near prepared, or like being half a fucking foot shorter than him is easy to work with out of bed unless Chanyeol’s on his hands and knees- but that’s one of his trigger-y things now, right? Yeah. Fuck.   
  
Fifteen minutes is nowhere near long enough for that. Junmyeon sees a solution and, yeah, his rational thinking really goes out the window when Chanyeol’s so eager.   
  
The table beside them screeches over their wooden flooring from the force of Chanyeol backing into it. It’s heavy enough not to move too far and sturdy enough that for five seconds this seems like a good idea. A deep, splintering crack comes from the centre of the table as soon as Chanyeol’s weight is on it. It’s an antique they picked up. It wasn’t really designed for..whatever is happening right now. Chanyeol’s over six feet tall; he wasn’t exactly designed for being thrown onto things, either.   
  
They both freeze. Nothing happens, but Chanyeol’s suddenly very aware of everything that potentially could. “Junmyeon- what exactly are we trying to do,” he asks, eyes wide like he’s only just realised he has a bad back and a job he should be at and Junmyeon’s wearing his shirt. “If this collapses- Help?”   
  
Junmyeon laughs, suddenly flustered and pink cheeked with the mood broken. He heaves Chanyeol back onto his feet by his forearms, pulling too hard and overbalancing Chanyeol so he can catch him in a hug. “You started it.” He buries against Chanyeol’s chest, holding him tight. Possessive and protective, even if it would have basically been his own fault if Chanyeol had just gotten hurt. He’d have looked beautiful on there laid out and fucked open, but honestly, how was that even going to work? “I have no idea, either. Or how you’d have gone straight back to work without cleaning up, or..”   
  
Still getting his breath back, Chanyeol just shakes his head. Thinking he was about to go through a table and crack his head on the floor kind of killed his boner, but- well, at least Junmyeon can stay here and do whatever he needs. Yet another benefit of working from home. “We really are out of practice if neither of us could get off in fifteen minutes.”   
  
Junmyeon hums. “Especially you.”   
  
Getting any extra time is a bonus. Problem is now he doesn’t want to let go. Marriage must be having some weird effect on Junmyeon. He’s not even frustrated. Just hopelessly soft, and Chanyeol’s so warm and damp through his work shirt and Junmyeon doesn’t want his stupid office to have him back just yet.“Why are you back here?” 

 

The reminder prompts Chanyeol to carefully extract himself from the hug, because, yeah, he didn’t actually rush back home just for that. Their fifteen minutes is definitely up by now.   
  
“I forgot something.”   
  
“To make out with your hot lonely husband?” Junmyeon gestures to himself. The tracksuit pants have a dark, damp spot now, and that’s entirely Chanyeol’s fault. (The shirt is Chanyeol’s, but the coffee stain by the hem is Junmyeon’s). “You finally remembered?”   
  
“This,” Chanyeol pulls a file out from the stack of magazines his macbook is propped on. He tucks it under his arm and then just looks at Junmyeon, disheveled and maybe a little bashful. “Sorry that didn’t..yeah. I really shouldn’t even be here, I just. I needed this, and. Yeah.”   
  
Junmyeon appreciates the sentiment. Honestly it’s funnier than it is disappointing that they were so desperate to do _something_ they didn’t manage anything at all. (Honestly it’s been so long since they have there’s no way Junmyeon would have let Chanyeol just leave again. Like Chanyeol would have really been fine without cuddles, anyway). Sentiment is good enough.   
  
“You should get going, then,” Junmyeon says, “I’ll text.”   
  
“But not-“ Mm. Chanyeol catches himself, frowning. Maybe he should have more faith in Junmyeon. All offense, he’s not going to risk it. “I’m not even being paranoid, ok, they do monitor the wifi at work. _Please_ don’t send me updates on how hot and lonely you are. We’d be moving back home before new year.”   
  
Junmyeon stares at him blankly, like whoever does that monitoring would probably have appreciated it.   
  
“I really-“ Chanyeol shrugs his sleeve so fast he probably doesn’t even read his watch, but, yeah. He holds Junmyeon’s face with both of his big hands, and Junmyeon grumbles, but grabbing Chanyeol’s wrists isn’t to try and stop him. “I love you-” Chanyeol plants a firm kiss to Junmyeon’s forehead, like there was supposed to be some finality about it, but he can’t help dotting more over his cheeks, “-so much, and I’ll be home like, as soon as I can considering I’m gonna be late in, and..”   
  
Now Junmyeon does pull on his wrists. “Shut up and get going,” he says, pushing up on his toes to peck Chanyeol’s jaw in return. “Love you too.” And great, now he’s _sad_. Again. At this rate the moping blanket isn’t just going to be reserved for the long evenings.   
  
Reluctantly, Chanyeol nods and draws away. He takes two long steps towards the door and stalls. “I’m just gonna-“ Chanyeol throws a hand up in gesture to the entire mess Junmyeon has made of his hair and darts off to the bathroom. They have a hall mirror. Junmyeon’s not bothered if he wants to brush his teeth again.   
  
On the counter his neglected coffee is barely lukewarm. Now _that_ , that’s a bother.   
  
  
  
  
♡    
  
  
  
  
“Ok, you know what. This is getting gross now.”   
  
“No.”   
  
“ _Yes_ , Junmyeon, even my hands are sweaty.”   
  
“Try moving me,” Junmyeon dares, and Chanyeol huffs. Turns out they do both fit under Junmyeon’s moping blanket if Junmyeon lies on Chanyeol’s chest. Their bodies are pressed flush, which would be nice if the blanket wasn’t insulating all the heat in. Other than pouting Chanyeol’s showing no sign of being too distressed by the hot sticky mess they’re becoming, so Junmyeon doesn’t see any good reason to budge.   
  
“This is some date night,” Chanyeol says, then yawns widely. They put a movie on, but his eyes are sore and turning his head to watch was more effort than it was worth. “We’re both so depressed we had to get under here together.”   
  
Junmyeon shrugs. He had felt a little down before Chanyeol got home, but turns out the blanket’s healing qualities increase around a hundred percent when it’s shared. He drops a kiss to Chanyeol’s collarbone before settling his head there. “It was a ruse. I just wanted to trap you in here.”   
  
Oh. Well. “Success.” Chanyeol attempts to wiggle, to prove that he can’t. Well and truly trapped. “What was the next part of the plan?” he asks, and it doesn’t sound entirely innocent.   
  
Junmyeon grumbles into Chanyeol’s shoulder at the little jolt that sent through him. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, and honestly, his intentions were all honourable. He just wanted to cuddle up for a while, tired himself and assuming Chanyeol would be mostly zombie. But Chanyeol thinks.. _wants_ Junmyeon to have made this leading?   
  
They have this loud movie on and Chanyeol’s sleep shirt smells like he dumped detergent straight onto it, and they both have garlic breath from dinner, and it’s basically the least sexy moment possible. “That was the final step of the plan,” Junmyeon pouts.    
  
But they’re pressed tight together, and Chanyeol’s smiling like he’s up to no good now. “Yeah?” he glances down. Junmyeon resolutely doesn’t follow. “You’re poking me.”   
  
“Ah.”   
  
“Ah,” Chanyeol agrees. The tiniest shift makes Junmyeon wince - when did he even start getting hard, honestly, he’s useless - and Chanyeol’s so warm and solid and _annoying_. “I gotcha,” he says, except he doesn’t, really. His hand - his stupid, massive, sweaty hand - wedges between them to cup Junmyeon through his sweats, but that’s kind of all he can do. Can’t move at this angle, can’t really do any more than squeeze and stroke with his thumb.   
  
Not to be ungrateful, but Junmyeon very nearly headbutts him.    
  
“This is so bad.” Junmyeon can’t move either, trapped in the well-wrapped blanket burrito around his back. He can’t get enough leverage from his knees to move his hips, seeing as underneath him is all Chanyeol. It’s just enough pressure for the tingles of pleasure to make him frustrated. “This is- it’s really bad. Chanyeol. I hate it.”   
  
Chanyeol just makes a placating sound and nuzzles at his jaw. After their last frantic attempt it feels good to touch him like this, unhurried, no pressure. But in fairness Chanyeol elbows the blanket looser, so there’s enough space for Junmyeon to kneel up a little. It’s still not the greatest angle to work with, but the sound Junmyeon makes when Chanyeol palms the head of his cock to slick up his hand- it probably doesn’t matter.   
  
Junmyeon’s supporting himself on his elbows and nearly flat out collapses when Chanyeol’s fingers curl around him. “I’m gonna die,” Junmyeon decides. Either because he finally has a hand other than his own on his dick and it feels like heaven, or from embarrassment. He hasn’t been this overwhelmed by a handjob since he was a teenager. “I’m gonna die and it’s your fault.”   
  
“Husband,” Chanyeol nips him affectionately, “Shut up and enjoy it.”   
  
“You shut up.” Junmyeon’s face is flushed so hot. Chanyeol just looks content and sleepy and like he isn’t actually trying to kill Junmyeon right now. Chanyeol ducks his head at an angle to kiss Junmyeon, effectively shutting them both up.    
  
It doesn’t take long at all until Junmyeon’s trembling, tension in his thighs and belly. Chanyeol’s pace quickens in response and Junmyeon whines in his throat. He doesn’t want it to be over yet, but Chanyeol’s got him well learned after all these years. He knows where everything sensitive about Junmyeon is and all Junmyeon can do is cling onto him and ride it out.    
  
Chanyeol only gives him a few seconds before he prods, “Did you die?”    
  
Junmyeon groans. He feels like he could simultaneously go three more times or sleep for an entire week. His whole body feels oversensitive. Chanyeol’s hand is trapped between them again, but he was kind enough to let go. His hand is warm, gentle pressure on Junmyeon’s belly. “I died.”   
  
For a moment everything’s still and quiet, and Junmyeon almost starts to drift. “Speaking of dying,” Chanyeol rubs his free hand across Junmyeon’s shoulders. If it’s supposed to stop him dozing off it’s having the wrong effect. “I can’t feel my hand anymore. Lift up?”   
  
“No.” It takes a lot of effort for Junmyeon to get back onto his elbows. Rolling off Chanyeol is easier than trying to sit up. Junmyeon squirms into the small gap between Chanyeol and the back of the couch, taking most of the blanket with him. “Oh-“ It’s not like it’s a surprise, but Junmyeon still winces when he looks between them. “Sorry.”    
  
There’s only one small stain on his own shirt and a whole lot on Chanyeol. He got come as far up as his tattoo. Missed his watch, at least. Junmyeon feels too sluggish to make any realistic offers about getting up and finding something to clean them with. Chanyeol’s hard against Junmyeon’s thigh and damp and flushed from the heat, and Junmyeon just takes it in with a painful mix of affection and useless, already spent arousal.    
  
“You’re always making a mess,” Chanyeol says, eyes all soft and fond.   
  
“I think you like cleaning up after me,” Junmyeon mumbles, mouth pressed hot to Chanyeol’s shoulder, “That’s why you married me. So you could clean up after me forever.” He kind of loves him a whole lot in moments like this. Junmyeon’s not the best at saying it, though, so instead he worms a hand down between them. He rubs his fingertips along Chanyeol’s inner thigh, and Chanyeol gives an involuntary little jolt. “Can I?”   
  
“Not right now,” Chanyeol replies without hesitation, “I have to clean up,” and Junmyeon sobers enough to appreciate that yeah, he really probably does. Chanyeol putting up with the sticky heat under the blanket for so long was a pleasant surprise, and now..well, now he’s even stickier. “Junmyeonnie. You should too.”   
  
Junmyeon whines and rolls helplessly as his nice Chanyeol pillow and the blanket all start to move. “Nap first.”   
  
It’s not like Chanyeol isn’t used to him being disgusting. He just sighs, shakes the blanket out and drops it back over Junmyeon, who’s already making himself comfortable in the warm spot Chanyeol left behind. Above his head Junmyeon hears Chanyeol muttering about his ruined shirt. It’d be rude to laugh, so he bundles up more in the blanket, pulling it around his mouth.   
  
“Oh,” Chanyeol pauses, “Congratulations.” Stooping back down, he drops a swift kiss to the top of Junmyeon’s head. Junmyeon blinks up at him. “Apartment officially christened.”   
  
What. “No-“ A two minute handjob under a sweaty blanket? What kind of story is that to recount when they’re old. “But that was the _worst_. Why did you let that be the first time. You’re the worst husband ever.”   
  
“I know,” Chanyeol laughs, and he can’t resist kissing Junmyeon again. Tiny, warm, sleepy husband - how can he ever resist that. “Then we’ll just have to do better in the other rooms.”   
  
Junmyeon's brows rise. “When? How much more furniture will get broken in the process?”   
  
“You know you’re really cute when you get all grouchy?” Junmyeon scowls. Chanyeol pats the blanket and straightens back up. “Anyway, do you want me to have an anxiety attack? You sleep, I’m gonna shower.”   
  
Not a hard command to follow. “Thanks for the..” Junmyeon gestures vaguely with his hand still under the blanket. Mostly for the orgasm, partly for putting up with the ick. It’s taken _forever_ , but, yeah, apartment officially christened. Time for a celebratory nap.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading ! ☀ at [tumbl](https://taonsil.tumblr.com) ❀ [twt](https://twitter.com/taonsil) if you wanna talk or be buried in suyeol


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